


we lay together under stars

by PinkCanary



Series: all we want (and all we ever could have hoped to be) [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bravenlarke, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5536676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkCanary/pseuds/PinkCanary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke had hoped that Abby wasn’t serious when she stated on Thanksgiving that she wanted all three of them to come visit for Christmas.  Let’s face it, she was a busy woman, and Clarke had been hoping that she’d somehow just… forget.  </p><p>No such luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we lay together under stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gohandinhand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gohandinhand/gifts).



> Gohandinhand has been asking for the Christmas fic that was hinted at in 'under blankets and covers' since AUGUST. Well, Merry Christmas, Sarah! Hope it was worth the wait... :D

Clarke’s fingers gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white.

“You know,” Clarke said, trying to keep her tone casual. “If we go north instead of south, we could be in Vermont in the same amount of time that it’s going to take us to get to Annapolis. Find a cabin or a ski lodge… spend Christmas curled up in front of the fire. No family, just the three of us…”

Clarke’s eyes darted away from the road and to the passenger’s seat, just for a second. It was only a moment, but the ferocity of Raven’s glare was enough to convince Clarke to bypass the north on-ramp, and continue on to the one clearly marked “south”. _Fucking responsibility._

“Good girl.” Raven said, once the car was on the highway, headed in the proper direction. “Christmas with your mother can’t be that bad. She wants to spend time with you, and wants to meet your significant others. There are worse things.” 

Clarke grimaced. She knew that it really could be worse. Knew the few details that Bellamy and Raven had been willing to share about their own family life, and she almost felt guilty about being so reluctant to spend time with her own family. _Still._

“You haven’t met my mother, yet. You can say that if we’re all alive at the end of this.”

*

Clarke had hoped that Abby wasn’t serious when she stated on Thanksgiving that she wanted all three of them to come visit for Christmas. Let’s face it, she was a busy woman, between her job at the hospital and her burgeoning political career, and Clarke had been hoping that she’d somehow just… forget. 

No such luck.

She’d called a few days earlier, to ask what Clarke’s travel plans were. No last minute “why aren’t you here yet?” phone call, like on Thanksgiving, but actually reaching out to arrange schedules. _At least she was trying,_ Clarke thought to herself, as they discussed exam schedules and Raven and Bellamy’s food preferences. 

As luck would have it, Bellamy had a shift at the university library on the 23rd, and so they had the perfect excuse to not drive down until late in the afternoon. 

“It’s three days.” Bellamy had pointed out, his expression placating. “You can handle three days.”

And he was right. Her relationship with her mother might not have been the best, but they had managed to be civil to each other — even _politely friendly_ — when Clarke had visited for a week at the end of summer vacation, and at least she would have Bellamy and Raven with her, this time.

Even though that thought filled her with a kind of comfort, she couldn’t help feeling deeply self-conscious when she finally pulled into the driveway of the house. She could hear Bellamy’s breath catching as he looked out the window and, yeah, maybe _house_ was putting it a bit simply. The place was enormous.

“You grew up here?” Raven asked, and her face was unreadable.

“No.” Clarke shuddered. “The house I grew up in was totally normal. We moved here when I was fifteen, because mom insisted that we were in the wrong neighbourhood once she started really getting into politics. God, Dad hated this place, but he went along with whatever she wanted. And I was so mad that mom moved us during my sophomore year of high school. We fought a lot that year.” Clarke finished, soft. It had been several years since the move, and the trauma of being uprooted during high school had mostly healed, but Clarke deeply felt the loss of her dad. Her one ally through all of it. 

Bellamy reached up between the seats, his hand caressing her upper arm through the thick fabric of her winter coat. “It’ll be fine. Three days. And if it gets really bad, we can make a run for it and head up to Vermont.” He smiled, reassuringly, and Clarke wasn’t surprised to realize that she actually did feel better.

They were unloading their bags from the back of the car, when Abby came out to meet them. The sun had set a couple of hours earlier, and the temperature had dropped down below freezing. Clarke could feel Abby shiver slightly in her thin sweater as she threw her arms around Clarke in greeting.

“You could have at least put on a jacket before coming out here, Mom.” Clarke chastised, as she returned the hug gingerly. 

“I wanted to catch you before you changed your mind.” Abby whispered into Clarke’s hair, and Clarke choked out a laugh. Maybe they didn’t always get along, but her mother definitely did _know her_.

Abby waited until they were all inside, before finally turning to greet Raven and Bellamy.

 _Like a predator luring her prey,_ Clarke couldn’t help thinking.

“It’s so nice to finally meet the people that I’ve heard _almost nothing_ about.” She said, stealing an unreadable glance in Clarke’s direction, before turning back to Raven and Bellamy. “I understand that the three of you met at Camp Ark?”

Clarke couldn’t actually remember telling her mother that, but it was an easy enough conclusion to make, based on how long Clarke had told her that they had been dating. 

“Yeah.” Raven answered. “Clarke and I shared a cabin together, and she was totally unable to resist my charms.” She grinned easily, and Clarke could see that Abby was fighting the urge to smile back at her. Raven _was_ charming when she wanted to be, almost without any effort.

“And Bellamy?” Abby asked, turning to face him for the first time. 

“I was one of the boys’ counsellors. The three of us had to work together a lot.” He shrugged, guarded.

The three of them were silent, and Bellamy shuffled uncomfortably, his eyes darting around, taking in the immense front foyer of the house. Clarke could practically touch the tension in the room. It seemed that her mother was actually going to make an effort to get to know Raven and Bellamy, but even that couldn’t fill the silence between the mother and daughter. 

“It’s an… unusual situation that the three of you have.” Abby finally offered, and Clarke’s hackles raised. Not that they didn’t get that reaction from nearly everyone that they told about their relationship, but it was somehow _different_ when Abby said it. “Anyway, Clarke can show you where the guest rooms are, if you want to put your things away before dinner.”

Clarke spoke, almost without thinking. “No. They’ll sleep in my room.” Like she was going to let them out of her sight for a moment while they were here.

Abby’s eyebrows raised. “All of you?”

“All of us.” Clarke was practically bristling. Seriously, there was just something about her mother that got her defences up immediately, and she knew that Bellamy could feel it as well. He stepped forward protectively, placing his shoulder between Clarke and Abby, before almost immediately realizing what he was doing, and taking a step back. 

Still, the damage had been done, and Abby’s eyes flashed with anger as she evenly met Clarke’s glare. Abby had never taken being _challenged_ well, even if it was by someone who only wanted the best for her daughter. Maybe _especially_ by someone who knew Clarke better than she did. 

It was Raven that finally broke the tense silence. “Hey.” She said, smiling widely, but tight around the edges. Her hand curled around Bellamy’s bicep, even as she spoke directly to Abby. “The whole thing is actually pretty simple. Basically, assume regular relationship stuff, only there are three of us instead of two.” She turned her attention back to Clarke, and Clarke could feel herself relaxing at the soft depths of Raven’s dark eyes. “Clarke, do you want to show us where to put our bags?”

And then she was tugging Clarke’s arm, pulling her towards the stairs. Clarke couldn’t help shooting one last glare at her mother, before turning away. 

This whole thing was off to a great start.

*

It was late morning when Clarke finally woke up. She was curled comfortably around Bellamy’s back — Raven always teased her about insisting on being the big spoon, despite being “almost pocked-sized” — and Raven’s back was was pressed against her own, so that she could feel the rippling of both of their back muscles as they breathed in and out. For a long moment, Clarke just focused on the feeling of them each breathing, slow and deep. 

They had been in a relationship for four months at this point, and together almost constantly for six, and the butterflies were still there. But, there was also just the soothing warmth that came from their simple presence. 

They felt like home.

Raven was the first to finally stir, rolling over in the bed so that her chest pressed up against Clarke’s back, and tucking her chin on top of Clarke’s head. 

“How long have you been awake, babe?” She murmured against Clarke’s hair. _Of course._

“How could you tell?”

“I can hear you thinking. You’re so fucking loud.” Clarke chuckled against Bellamy’s neck, and he sighed, sleepy and contented.

For several minutes, they just lay there, enjoying the feeling of their warm bodies pressed together as they slowly woke up. 

“Do we have to go downstairs?” Clarke finally asked quietly.

Dinner had been a tense affair, with Abby remaining distantly polite as she made small talk with the three of them. She actually seemed to be warming up to Raven, and she asked her questions about her engineering program, showing genuine interest. And Clarke had been only too happy to steer the conversation away from herself.

Her verdict still seemed to be out on Bellamy. He had done his best to behave during dinner, but Clarke didn’t miss the way that his eyes hardened and his brow furrowed when he spoke to Abby. She knew — had been on the receiving end, in fact — that his protective streak ran a mile wide, and that he was warring with his natural inclination to protect Clarke from her mother. And she knew that Abby recognized this, as well, and was none too appreciative. 

“You ready, babe?” Raven asked, gently. “Because I really have to pee, so we’re going to have to leave this room at some point. I’m just saying.”

Clarke sighed, pressing her forehead against Bellamy’s shoulder. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

When she finally emerged from the room a few minutes later, dressed in a hoodie and a pair of snowman pyjama pants (Raven had laid claim to her reindeer ones, and was actually wearing them at that moment), she actually felt prepared to face another day with her mother. It was Christmas Eve, and she had two people who adored her and loved her without reservation. 

Clarke Griffin was determined that today was going to be a good day.

Until she walked into the kitchen and came face to face with Marcus Kane.

“Shit!” She swore, before catching herself automatically. “I mean, Mr. Kane?” She paused for a moment, and then realized once again that she was in her mother’s kitchen. “I mean, _fuck_? What is going on?”

It was at that moment that Abby entered the kitchen, and her eyes immediately widened, before steeling herself with a composed expression.

“Clarke, you know Marcus Kane.” 

Of course she knew Marcus Kane. “How do _you_ know Marcus Kane?” 

Abby paused, and for a moment she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. It wasn’t a look that Clarke was familiar with seeing on her mother. “We’re on the some of the same committees. I told you a few months ago that I was dating someone from work.” Abby trailed off hesitantly.

 _Seriously?_

Of course Clarke remembered _that_. In fact, that is what had prompted her to avoid her mother for most of the summer. But she had sort of assumed that when Abby had said, ‘someone from work,’ she had meant someone from the hospital, and not the man who had been Clarke’s boss for six weeks. 

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell me that I was working for your _boyfriend_?” She asked, her voice low and furious. 

Abby’s eyes flashed with a kind of panic, before settling on contrite. “I didn’t know where you were going to be working until right before you left. You didn’t exactly give me a lot of details to work off of. And by then you’d already accepted the job, so Marcus and I decided that it was best if you didn’t know.”

Clarke opened and closed her mouth, before finally snapping it shut. Luckily, she was saved from speaking when Bellamy and Raven finally came down the stairs to join her. 

Raven did a double-take that would have been comical if Clarke wasn’t so angry that she could barely see straight.

“Kane?” Raven asked, bewildered. She turned to Clarke, and her eyes were filled with confusion and… hurt? “You never mentioned that you knew Kane, Clarke.”

“I didn’t. I don’t.” Clarke said, still caught between confusion and seething rage. “Apparently the fact that my mom and Kane are dating was information that I needed to be _protected_ from.” She spat, angrily. “What, did I get the job because you were sleeping with the boss?”

It was Kane that cut in first, before Abby could even react. “I’m not in charge of hiring counsellors, Clarke. I didn’t know who you were until I looked at my counsellor lists a few days before camp started. And who your mother is doesn’t change the fact that you were damn good at your job. The kids respected you, and you kept them safe and happy. That’s all that matters to me.”

Clarke could feel herself deflating slightly, and she suddenly realized that Bellamy’s hand had come up to her shoulder protectively. She glanced at her mother, and could see that her eyes had been drawn by the gesture, as well. 

But Kane was still speaking. “I also know that the three of you were not involved with each other when you were at the camp. Or at least not in a way that was obvious to the rest of us. I’m not interested in the details, but I want you to know that I’m impressed with how the three of you conducted yourselves with regards to that, as well.”

Clarke had no idea what to say to that. It’s true, they had waited until the kids had gone home before actually pursuing any type of physical relationship, but they had sure been obvious as hell to anyone actually paying attention. The awkward silence stretched on for a long moment; Clarke could actually hear the ticking of her mother’s oversized faux-antique clock hanging on the wall on the opposite side of the room.

Finally, it was Raven that spoke. “Is there coffee somewhere?”

*

It had been pretty easy to avoid Abby and Kane for the rest of the day. Raven had insisted that Clarke had to take them for a walk to see “her neighbourhood”, which had turned into lunch at Clarke’s favorite greasy burger place, and then a food coma nap back at the house.

Which had been interrupted by Abby knocking at the door. “Clarke? Are you awake?”

Clarke took a moment to survey their positions -- all fully-dressed, Bellamy in the middle, Clarke and Raven curled up to his sides. Clarke’s head was pillowed on his shoulder, and his arm was curled back over her, to press her in closer. Good enough.

“I’m awake,” Clarke called back.

The door opened a crack, and Abby stuck her head in. Her eyes narrowed for a moment at the sight of the three of them, but all she said was, “the Jahas are going to be here soon. You guys should get dressed for dinner,” before retreating and closing the door behind her.

*

Clarke didn’t bother trying to stop herself from launching herself out the front door, so that she could engulf Wells in a massive bear hug. “Wells,” she breathed into his neck, smiling when he only tightened his own arms around her. 

“Hey Clarke,” he whispered to her, before pulling back just enough so that he could see her face. “How has your Christmas holiday been, so far?” The question sounded innocent; the type of question that you would ask any acquaintance. But Clarke knew from the look in his eye what he was _really_ asking. Wells had always just _known_ her. Probably even better than Clarke knew herself.

“I’m surviving,” she said, quiet. “I’ll tell you all about it after dinner.” 

It was only when Clarke looked up from Wells to greet Thelonius that she noticed the familiar girl standing slightly behind him. 

_”Maya?”_ , Clarke asked, confused. “Not that I’m complaining, but where did you come from?”

Wells chuckled. “We exchanged numbers at the end of camp, and we’ve been texting for the last few months. Maya wasn’t going home to Oregon for Christmas this year, so I invited her to spend Christmas with us.”

Maya was smiling shyly at Clarke, and Clarke couldn’t help smiling back. “I’m glad to see you,” she said to the other woman. _If only so I have another ally against my mother_.

Thelonius went to join Abby and Kane in the kitchen, and Clarke led Wells and Maya over to the rarely-used “family room” (or, ‘the room with the TV’), where Raven and Bellamy were sitting close together on one sofa. Without saying anything, Clarke wedged herself in between them -- practically sitting on Bellamy’s lap, her legs thrown over Raven’s. 

When she looked up, Wells was grinning at her. 

“What?”

“You,” Wells answered, smug. “It’s so weird watching you three together, after camp. And yet not weird at all. And maybe that’s the strangest part of all.”

Maya was smiling at them, bashful. “I’m happy that it all worked out,” she said. “Some of the other counsellors had bets on who you were going to end up dating, but I’m glad it turned out like this.” 

Raven turned her head so that she could smile at Clarke, and Bellamy looped his arm around her waist, squeezing gently. She leaned back against his broad chest. “Me too,” she whispered.

*

Kane had burst into laughter when Wells and Maya walked into the dining room together. 

“Forget summer camp,” he said, chuckling. “I should be running a match-making service.”

*

“I just don’t understand you two,” Raven said later, after the Jahas and Maya had gone home, and the three of them were curled up on the family room sofa once again. “You and your mother,” she clarified, when she was met with both Clarke and Bellamy’s confused glaces.

Clarke was pretty sure that they had been over this. More than once, in fact. In late night chats in their darkened cabin, and later with Bellamy, as they laid out in the clearing under the stars. Hell, she had definitely ranted about Abby for at least twenty minutes while drunk on Thanksgiving, for that matter.

“What part don’t you get?” Clarke finally asked, perplexed. 

Raven shrugged. She was sitting next to Bellamy on the sofa, so close that their arms were touching, and Clarke’s legs were thrown over both of their laps as she lounged across the plush furniture. Everyone else in the house had gone to sleep over an hour ago, but Clarke had led them here and got a fire going in the huge fireplace. The flickering flames cast a dim orange glow over the room, bathing everything in warmth and shadow. 

“You have a mom who… she wants to be in your life. She all but forced us to come here. She wanted to meet me and Bellamy. She’s all but having a pissing match with Bell to see who can be the most protective over you,” Raven paused, pensive. “I would think that a relationship with her would be worth fighting for. Some of us didn’t have even a chance at that.”

Clarke was silent. She knew all about Raven and Bellamy’s relationships with their own mothers, and she wasn’t naive enough to think that they wouldn’t have _some_ feelings about being here with her and Abby. 

“It isn’t that simple,” she finally said. She picked at the thread in the hem of the blanket that was draped over her and Raven’s laps. “I told you that my dad died in a car accident.” She paused, and Raven nodded slowly. Carefully.

“My mom was in the car with him,” she said, quiet. “She walked away without a scratch, and my dad was killed instantly.” Clarke could feel more than hear Bellamy letting out the breath he had been holding. “Things hadn’t been good between the two of them for awhile and…” She paused, considering her words carefully. It didn’t help that she felt a bit like a monster even _thinking_ this, let alone saying it out loud. “For a long time I wished that my mom died, instead. I think I still do.”

Clarke didn’t -- couldn’t -- look up at Raven and Bellamy as she spoke. “And so when my mom told me that she was already seeing someone else, after less than a year? I lost it.” There was a painful lump in the back of her throat, and she could feel hot tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t help thinking that _she_ should have been the one that died, and that dad wouldn’t have moved on that quickly.” All of a sudden, the tears were spilling down Clarke’s face and a painful choked sob escaped her throat. 

_Fuck._

“Oh, Clarke,” Raven said, soft. She grasped Clarke’s legs behind the knees and pulled her up into her lap, so that she was half on top of Raven and half on top of Bellamy. “I know that I’m not the model for dealing with emotional situations in a healthy way, but we just feel the way that we feel. When you’re grieving, sometimes you just need to do whatever is necessary to protect yourself and cope with it all.” Both of Raven’s arms were wrapped tightly around Clarke’s shoulders, holding her close into Raven’s chest. Bellamy’s hand was in her hair and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“No matter what, Clarke,” Bellamy said, “we love you and we are here for you. You don’t have to face any of this alone, anymore.”

All Clarke could do was sob harder, and she pressed her face closer into Raven’s soft sweater. But she had Raven’s strong heartbeat under her ear, and the sound of Bellamy’s soft murmurs as he worked his fingers through Clarke’s tangled blonde hair. 

Somewhere, in another room of the house, her mother’s old grandfather clock struck midnight.

*

Christmas morning had always been Clarke’s favorite thing in the entire world. Not the actual opening presents part -- although that part was pretty good, as well -- but that moment of _anticipation_ when she woke up and the day stretched before her, seemingly limitless in its potential. 

Sometimes Christmas let her down. The gifts weren’t always what she wanted, and her parents didn’t always get along, and sometimes her mother got called away to work, and sometimes her dad ordered Chinese food instead of cooking the Christmas ham. Sometimes, Christmas was a disappointment.

But that moment when Clarke first woke up in her bed? That moment was always _perfect_.

This year, her head was pillowed on Bellamy’s shoulder, and Raven’s body was curled around her back, and it might have been the best Christmas morning that Clarke could remember.

Raven’s breath was slow and even against her back, but Bellamy turned his head to press a light kiss to Clarke’s temple, almost before her eyes had even fluttered completely open. 

“Hey,” he murmured into her hair, and she hummed quietly in response. 

For a few minutes, Clarke drifted in and out of consciousness, before she finally felt the pull of Bellamy’s eyes searching her face as she dozed. 

“What is it?” she asked sleepily. 

“It’s Christmas,” he whispered back.

“It was Christmas when we went to sleep. How is this any different?”

Bellamy shrugged, his shoulder rising and falling against Clarke’s cheek. “It just is,” he answered, and somehow Clarke understood entirely. 

Limitless in its potential.

They were silent again for a long moment, and Clarke would have thought that Bellamy had fallen back asleep, had he been anyone else. Finally, he spoke again. “Raven and I got you a present,” he whispered. 

Raven’s breathing hadn’t changed at all, but it was like she had a sixth sense. “No,” she protested, her voice still low and scratchy with sleep. “You can’t do this without me.”

Bellamy chuckled, and he reached out his free arm - the one that wasn’t currently pinned underneath Clarke -- to squeeze her shoulder gently. “I was just _informing_. We weren’t going to do anything without you.”

And no, _of course they weren’t_.

The words echoed through Clarke’s brain, and she would have said something, except Raven was already sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again, before finally saying, “do you want to do it, Bell? You’re probably better at explaining than I am.”

Bellamy ran his hand through his hair anxiously. And then he _sighed_. “It’s probably best that we don’t give you this gift in front of everyone else. And not _like that_ ,” he quickly added, when Clarke began to smirk at him. “Do you know that studio space loft near the university? The one on King Street?” He didn’t wait for Clarke to reply before plowing forward. “Raven and I rented you studio space. For two months.” He paused, and he was not quite looking at Clarke. “If it’s working for you, then we can extend the contract.”

Clarke was flabbergasted. She hadn’t mentioned renting a studio to Bellamy and Raven, but she had often complained about not having enough space in her dorm room to work on her art. She had never expected…. this, though. “But why?” she finally asked, once she had regained use of her voice.

“So you can work on your art,” Raven stated, as if the answer was entirely obvious. “Maybe even get a portfolio together, so you can apply to some art programs for next year.”

Clarke still didn’t get it. “But _why_?” she asked again. 

Bellamy looked even more apprehensive, but he plowed forward anyway. “Because pre-med makes you fucking miserable, and you deserve to be happy. And maybe art school isn’t the right choice either, but you owe it to yourself to at least give it a try. Having your own space to work will give you a chance to actually put together an application. And if you really get into it and decide that you’re not interested, then…. well, then you know.”

Clarke didn’t know what to say, and so she tackled Bellamy instead, pressing him down into the mattress. Her lips met his as she tried to press all of the feelings that she couldn’t say out loud into his skin. Eventually, the kiss was broken when Bellamy snagged Raven’s arm, dragging her down on top of them. 

“I really love you both,” Clarke said, breathless. She was half on top of Bellamy and Raven was half on top of her, and despite the stress of the last couple days, she felt secure and content. 

“Of course you do,” Raven answered, and Bellamy murmured his agreement.

For several minutes, they stayed there, sandwiched on top of each other. Finally, Clarke broke the silence. “This is sort of a weird coincidence, but I made something for you guys.”

Raven lifted her head from Clarke’s shoulder, her curiosity piqued. “Yeah? Made?”

“Painted,” Clarke clarified. “I actually did it when I was here at the end of the summer.” She paused for a second. “After we left camp, but before we went back to school.”

Clarke nudged Raven over so that she could stand up from the bed; she crossed the room over to the closet and opened it up. The canvas that she pulled out from the back of the closet was large -- around two feet high and three feet wide -- and she held it facing towards her own chest as she walked back over to the bed. 

“You have to remember that I was out of practise with painting when I did it,” she voice nervous despite her attempts to steady it. “I had only started drawing again a few weeks earlier. But I wanted to capture this, the way that I remembered it.”

Clarke had been almost frantic to commit the picture that had still been so clear in her head on to the canvas. She had barely slept -- barely eaten -- for two days, locked in her room in her mother’s house. Abby had taken the retreat as a kind of tantrum, but really Clarke had just been _captivated_.

She turned the canvas around quickly, like ripping off a bandaid, and the reaction from Bellamy and Raven was almost immediate. Raven’s hand came up to her mouth, tears springing to the corners of her eyes, and the skin around Bellamy’s eyes crinkled as he smiled widely. 

The painting was done in shades of deep blue -- the tops of high pine trees bordered the edges of the canvas, while the centre was a velvety blue sky, dotted with cool stars. 

“This is where I was,” Clarke said, “when I realized that I was falling in love with both of you.” She looked up when Raven let out a quiet shuddering gasp, and the sight of her girlfriend with tears in her eyes gave her the surge of confidence that she needed to continue. “We spent so much time lying in that clearing, and there was something about being able to lie in the darkness and talk that just made me open up. I didn’t even know it was possible for me to trust anyone again, after everything that happened. But I trusted you two. And I fell in love with you there.”

Bellamy and Raven were both silent for a long moment… until Clarke suddenly found herself tackled from two different directions. 

“Fuck, I love you so much,” Raven breathed against Clarke’s neck. 

“ _We_ love you so much,” Bellamy amended. 

“Of course you do,” Clarke said, her voice choked with emotion.

*

By the time the three of them emerged from Clarke’s bedroom, they were a mess of tousled hair, red eyes, and swollen lips. Abby raised her eyebrows at them, but all she said was a simple “good morning”.

“Good morning,” Clarke replied good-naturedly, as she seated herself between Raven and Bellamy at the breakfast bar, after grabbing a cup of coffee from the opposite side of the kitchen. 

“You sound cheerful,” Abby said, cautious. Her eyes were half-narrowed, as if she was trying to tamp down her suspicion with nonchalance. 

Clarke smiled at her mother, and she felt Bellamy’s hand gently grasping her knee under the table. “Just happy to be spending Christmas with family, I guess.”


End file.
